


so i just drive into the night

by lightinthedarkness, ReleaseTheSheep



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, almost car sex?, at the end?, not quite though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightinthedarkness/pseuds/lightinthedarkness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReleaseTheSheep/pseuds/ReleaseTheSheep
Summary: In which Vax steals Percy's car only to be followed and found by Percy himself and... oh it's a date now





	

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to asia/@lightinthedarkness on here/@derolo on tumblr for having the pseudo-rp sesh that this was born out of and in so doing writing half of it, and also for generally being a cool bean
> 
> title and inspiration from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttp114F5Th0)

Vax reached into the pocket of his tattered jeans, and pulled out his phone. He clicked it on, and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness of the screen in the night time lighting. He started absently flipping back and forth through the pages of apps. It was something to do with his hands that wouldn't draw attention in the busy street, he thought, pointlessly clicking the "home" button. His back was up against the wall of a skyscraper similar to tens of others in this part of town, his legs crossed casually, one hand balled up in his pocket. He figured that to the untrained eye, he probably looked suitably inconspicuous. 

He didn't feel inconspicuous, though. His heartbeat felt loud enough that it could be used to write a bass line over, and the voice in his head was yelling warnings at such a pitch, it seemed, that he might accidentally try and shush it aloud, giving himself away.

He glanced around the corner, feeling the concrete brush against his cheek. There was a line of cars parked along the street in front of the swankily decorated entrance to the building he was leaning against the side of. Each of them, he knew, was worth more than what an average kid his age made in five years. There were sleek, elegant sports cars, opulent luxury cars, a couple of limousines, and a rugged-looking deep red muscle car. The glow of the streetlights wrapped them each in a soft halo, outlining their shapes against the darkened street and sky. He caught himself just in time to stop a low whistle escaping his lips.

He scanned the row for a moment, then let his eyes latch onto one vehicle in particular: a magnificent ultramarine sports coupe, trimmed in glistening chrome. He hardly needed to check the number plate - he'd spent the past few days studying the reference photos from Garthok until he had every angle of the gorgeous car memorized - but he flicked his eyes down to the grille anyway, and read, in stark, black-on-white, government-issued letters, "NOM3RCY". If anxiety hadn't been rending his gut, Vax might have spared a thought for the kind of filthy rich dork who'd put a plate like that on such a beautiful machine.

Why was he so nervous? He'd done these sorts of jobs a thousand times before, there was no reason for this to be any different.

Well, except there was. He wasn't exactly used to working in this neighbourhood, with its overpriced boutiques and high-end cocktail bars lining the streets, interspersed with bank headquarters and stuffy law firms. He was still somewhat in shock at the idea that he'd been trusted with this job at all.

The circumstances surrounding the offer hadn't been particularly remarkable. He'd come home to a coded message tacked to the door of the run-down flat he shared with his sister, as usual. He'd called Dres Vina, who had delivered the details in his discordant, high-pitched rasp. The address Dres had given for the "pick-up" was one he was unfamiliar with, but he hadn't questioned it. It was only when Dres had said something like "that's when the security guards' shift ends, so you should have at least a minute to do your thing while the turnover happens" that Vax had startled slightly.

"Guards? I didn't know there would be guards."

"What were expecting, kid?" The voice on the other end of the line had sounded irritated. "Did you think the Palace De Rolo was into the business of letting just anyone in through its gilded doors?"

_The Palace De Rolo?_ Vax had been dumbstruck. The pick-up spot was in front of the most expensive hotel in the city, a far cry from the dingy backstreets he was used to practicing his craft in.

"Right, yeah, of course," Vax had managed to stutter, feeling his face grow hot.

"Great. I'll get Garthok to send you the specs." And with that Dres had hung up, leaving Vax to marvel at his luck, without the shadow of an explanation for this sudden apparent promotion.

Vax looked down at his watch. Two minutes left until the stocky men in their black suits gave up their positions on the red carpet flanking the hotel entrance. Two minutes, he thought, until show time.

He put away his phone and reached one hand into the breast pocket of his beat-up leather jacket. His fingers traced the outlines of his tools. He could always count on the cold edge of a slim jim or the point of a slide hammer against his skin to ground him. Feeling around in his pocket, checking off each shape on a mental inventory, he began to move into the familiar head space he always entered before the adrenaline kicked in.

He checked the time again. Ten seconds. The schedule he'd been given to study was militarily precise, and he thanked his lucky stars that good ol' Fredrick De Rolo was such a stickler for punctuality. It made everything much more predictable. He slicked his long black hair out of his eyes, and then pushed off the wall with one foot, stepping around the corner of the Palace De Rolo. As he made his way down the block, gaze locked straight ahead, steps measured, he could see, from the corner of his eye, the two security guards exchanging a look and then stepping inside the building at the same time, one through each door. Vax was careful not to quicken his pace, as much as he wanted to. He continued down the sidewalk, past the lavish entranceway, and walked onward until he was just beside the target car. 

He stepped down from the curb and around the back of it, sidling up to the driver's-side door with practiced nonchalance. He reached into his breast pocket for a moment and retrieved a small black box which he held up next to the crack of the door, careful not to touch the frame. After what felt like far too long, the contraption vibrated silently in his hand and he snuck it back into his jacket, breathing just slightly easier now that the car's security system was disarmed.

Next, Vax pulled out a fine, crooked metal rod and slid it expertly into the door's lock, jiggling it no more than one might an actual car key, and the door clicked open. Vax stepped in, his heart racing. He pulled the door shut and breathed deep, the smell of leather filling his nostrils, and he steadied his nerves for the next step.

~~~~~~

Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowki de Rolo III was terrifically bored. He had expected to be - he invariably found these sorts of elite social gatherings stuffy and, quite frankly, pointless - but this was more than he had prepared for. And when his father had announced that there was going to be a party to celebrate the hotel's hundred and fiftieth anniversary, to which certain "outstanding friends of the establishment" were to be invited, Percy had prepared for quite a bit.

But now, surrounded by 1) gaudily dressed ladies, and gentlemen to whose shirts enough starch seemed to have been applied to thicken a pudding to the consistency of granite, and, most nauseatingly, 2) their idle conversation and plastered smiles, he felt like slamming his head into the polished marble pillar he was now leaning on. He downed the drink in his hand and meandered his way through the chattering crowd toward a table at the back of the room.

It was laid with a thick, gold-trimmed, white tablecloth and covered in an elegant display of photographs of the hotel through the years. The pictures were arranged chronologically from left to right, starting with old sepia shots of a majestic-looking building of light brick decorated with elaborate stonework and gilding. As he progressed along the table, the photos turned to Photochrom, then grainy attempts at colour, then finally to modern full colour photos on glossy paper. All of the images were of the same brick building, except a handful of colour ones at the end, which depicted the imposing behemoth tower of stark concrete and cold glass in which he now stood. Percy couldn't help a slight snort as he noticed which years were missing from the spread. He could picture his father, lips curled, explaining to Yennen, the hotel archivist, that it "simply wouldn't do" to display the pictures of the old building ravaged after the fire, nor even the various progress shots of the construction of the new, modern, Palace De Rolo.

Modern. The word sent a shiver down Percy's back, and he twitched involuntarily. The Palace De Rolo was not supposed to be modern. The damages to the historic building he'd grown up in had been bad, granted, but not irreparable. He recalled the char marks across the facade, the splintering wood hanging down from the lobby ceiling like so many reaching fingers. He curled his own fingers into a tight fist, remembering the way Sylas Briarwood and his demon of a wife - who, he tried and failed not to remind himself, were in attendance here tonight - had convinced his father that it would be best to "just tear the old thing down". He remembered how he had stood up when the news was broken, slamming his hands into the polished oak table of the drawing room. _Are you mad?_ he had shouted, _this is a patrimonial landmark you're talking about, a symbol of the city! You can't just 'tear the old thing down'!_ But his father had silenced him, and eventually agreed to sign the Briarwoods' contract, and the Wildmount Development Company had stuck up it's whitewashed palisades around his childhood home. They had brought in bulldozers and cranes armed with wrecking balls, which flattened the building like a cardboard box underfoot. It had only taken a day.

Having sufficiently upset himself with these thoughts, Percy stalked away from the photographic display and over to the farthest point in the room from it; the wide, floor-to-ceiling glass pane that was the front wall of the ballroom. He looked out through it over the dark street, searching for something worthy of his attention. 

He found it in the form of a strikingly handsome young man in a leather jacket striding along the sidewalk in front of the hotel, lit up by the street lamps. Percival smiled slightly, taking in the man's appearance. Looking a bit closer now, he could see that this was more of a boy than a man, probably a year or two younger than himself. He was tall and slender, and he walked with an attractively effortless straight-backed confidence. Long black hair was tucked neatly behind his ears and flowed down his neck, brushing over the tops of his shoulders. His jawline was sharp, and the young man held his head at a slight upward angle, much to the credit of his delicate facial features. His bright green eyes seemed focused on something just up ahead... Percy raised an eyebrow and let out a low chuckle as he realized the tall dark stranger was looking at his car.

A moment later, the other eyebrow joined the first, rising toward his hairline in shock edged with amusement. The boy had stepped down from the sidewalk, and was moving around to the driver's side. Percy watched as he reached into his jacket once, twice, before getting the door open and taking a seat inside. 

_Oh, this should be fun,_ thought Percy, his smile widening.

He turned from the window, searching for a guest who wasn't caught up in mindless conversation. He found one soon enough, a man in a sharp, dark grey suit, standing off to one corner, a glass of something syrupy and strong-looking in hand. As Percy came to a distance at which he could recognize the figure, he almost reconsidered; it was Riscale Daxio, the attorney who had written up the Wildmount Development Company contract, the architect of the detestable three-page document that had sealed the fate of the De Rolo family's legacy. He was about to turn on his heel and find someone else, when it occurred to him that time was of the essence; he marched resolutely toward Daxio.

"Good evening sir," he began in his clipped baritone. "Might I be permitted to borrow your car?"

Daxio's eyes popped open. "That is an interesting request, to say the least. May I ask what for?"

"Regrettably, I think it would be better for both of us if you did not." Percy sighed, then continued. "I see no reason for needing it any more than an hour, and you won't have any use for it until midnight, unless I've been misinformed about the end time of this event."

"Erm- well- I suppose..." Daxio stammered, reaching into his pants pocket and handing over his keys.

Percy took them and flashed an indulgent smile. "Thank you, back in a bit!" And he swept away before the bewildered man could formulate a response.

He strode out of the elevator and across the lobby as the replacement guards appeared from a side door. He pushed past them hurriedly, crossing the threshold and making his way down the driveway, almost at a run. He clicked Daxio's keys, and turned toward the jet black beast that flashed its lights in response. It was parked four cars down from his own, facing the opposite way. He put the key in the ignition, and waited. 

Moments later, he heard a familiar engine roar to life, and saw the slightly disorienting sight of his own car driving past him. He turned Daxio's key in the ignition, and pulled away from the curb in a smooth three-point turn, watching through the mirrors as his own car drove off down the boulevard.

"Let's see how far you get on less than a quarter tank," Percy said aloud through a grin, easing into high gear.

Unsurprisingly, the thief headed for the highway. Percy followed at a safe distance for about half an hour before he saw the hazard lights go on and the car slowed, rolling onto the shoulder, the roof streaked with the light of a street lamp and the shadow cast by the branches of a nearby tree.

Percy pulled over as well, keeping roughly a hundred metres back, obscured by some bushes. He clicked off the engine and doused the lights, then leaned back into the soft leather seat to watch.

~~~~~~

"Fuck," Vax hissed into the darkness. "You can't be serious, come on!" He slammed a hand against the dashboard in frustration, then pulled it back as though it had burned him. Mortified, he scanned the dashboard panel for any sign of damage. To his great relief, he found none. "Get it together, dammit," he warned himself, breathing deeply.

Well this was a pretty pickle. Here he was, stranded in the middle of Absolutely Fucking Nowhere in a stolen car. He could hardly call Dres, or anyone in the Clasp, really; Vax was pretty sure this constituted failing the job, and he couldn't bear to admit defeat on his first gig after what he assumed had been a promotion. 

A thought occurred to him then, and he felt a bit better as he opened the car door and stepped out, leaving it ajar so he'd be spared the trouble of jimmying it again. He kicked up a lever under the seat with the worn toe of his boot, and heard the trunk click open.

He started to step around to the back of the car, then smacked himself in the forehead and padded backwards toward the front, and the open trunk. To be fair, "spacious under-bonnet front boot" was not a spec he had been expecting to be relevant tonight. But here he was, standing in front of the car, pulling up the hood to reveal a deep trunk lined with grey felt.

Empty. He leaned forward, reaching for the back, patting down the felt in search of a reserve tank, even a can, anything, finding nothing.

" _Fuck_ ," he breathed again, and kicked the tyre. He had no backup plan.

~~~~~~

Percy watched as the thief stepped out of the car, looking frustrated by the circumstances. He giggled like a child, watching the young man swear and kick the tyre, wondering which of the two of them was being more juvenile in that moment. God, he looked _cute_ with that angered look on his face. Percy leaned forward onto the steering wheel and took in the show.

After a moment, the thief ran a hand over his scalp, tousling his black locks - probably a tic, thought Percy. He suddenly had an idea, and it caused a wicked grin to crack across his features like a whip. He reached into the breast pocket of his tux jacket for the keys to the car in front of him, and pressed his thumb down against the bright red "panic" button, opening the car door with his other hand.

The thief let out a most undignified yelp and jumped back like a startled cat, just as Percy slammed the door to Daxio's car and began to stroll over, smirking.

"Car trouble?" he called out, clicking the button again and silencing the alarm.

Vax looked up, and there, coming toward him, was a tall, attractive-looking young man with an all-black tuxedo and a shock of bright white hair. Fuck, whoever he was, the stranger was _fit_. The tux was tailored and tight-fitting, and even at a distance Vax could make out the outline of muscular, toned arms and lean abs and thighs. This was a man who cared about his body, and oh, what a body it was. Vax thought of the trope of the girl with a broken down car being rescued by a ripplingly muscular Prince Charming type, and almost laughed aloud. Meanwhile, he became conscious of piercing blue eyes dancing over his form, apparently entertained by what they saw.

Somewhat uncomfortable with the attention being paid to his appearance, Vax dusted himself off and tried to look presentable. He quickly realized, however, that any effort he could make to that effect would be hopeless, considering the state of his leather jacket and the _size_ of the holes in his jeans.

By way of a response to the approaching stranger's question, he simply gestured vaguely toward the car, as though the answer were obvious.

Percival noticed the young man brush something off the shoulder of his jacket and straighten his white t-shirt. He was amused.

"If nothing else, you have good taste," he said at last, stopping by the door to the blue car. "Not a terrific level of perception though." He smiled, and clicked the "unlock" button on the keys still hooked around his finger.

Vax fought to get his brain to work despite the proximity of the distractingly statuesque stranger. For a moment he was offended by the comment on his perception, but that feeling quickly gave way to panic as he connected the dots: if this man had the keys to the blue car, then that must mean-

Before Vax could stop himself, he burst out into nervous laughter, which trailed into a sigh and a barely audible "ah, fuck".

Percy raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "I'm not going to report you, if that's what you're worried about."

Vax was confused. He tried to think of a reason not to turn a car thief in, and found he could not. Although, this mental sluggishness may have had something to do with the fact that at some point his focus had shifted to the faint outline of the stranger's collarbone through his black dress shirt.

"Eh," Percy shrugged, reading the young man's thoughts, "I've been more entertained in the past thirty minutes than I had been in months." He played with his keys, tossing and catching them.

Vax was floored by how little the whole situation seemed to bother this handsome man. "So you're just not going to do anything? You just take the car and I head home, that's it? You don't want to, I don't know, like, punch me or something?" He looked down sheepishly at his bootlaces before adding, "Cause I would."

Percival smirked again, "Well, not quite." He dropped his keys into one pants pocket and pulled Daxio's out from the other, jingling them. "What would you say to a joyride in an asshole lawyer's car?" He gestured toward the shape of it behind him, still partly hidden by bushes from this angle.

Vax was lost. "I steal your car, and you offer to take me on a date?" he stammered after a moment, utterly incredulous.

Percy grinned, choosing not to answer. Instead, he grabbed Vax by the wrist and started leading him of toward the bushes. "What's your name?"

Vax's brain was still stuck, and he hardly even heard the question. _Date?_

"Hello, your name?" Percy began to giggle.

"Err, call me Vax" the young man stammered, dazed. "This isn't exactly what I'd call punishment."

"This is payment, not punishment," said Percival, matter-of-fact. "I value precision of language. Percy, by the way." He stuck out a hand as they reached the black car again, pleasantly surprised by the handsome young man's- by Vax's firm grip.

Vax narrowed his eyes. He began to assess the situation, then internally said "fuck it" and stopped assessing. It was a conscious decision he'd made many times before, as a car thief. He was well-versed in the art of "fuck it".

He nodded slowly, without breaking eye contact, "Right."

He turned his attention to the car. Though perhaps not as gentlemanly as the deep navy machine behind him, it was a thing of beauty. He ran his hand along the frame, examining it. It was majestic and feral, all smooth black and highlights like quicksilver. Vax felt a surge of excitement pulse through him at the thought of the horsepower. All of a sudden, he realized that he was crouching by the exhaust pipe, looking at it a bit too intensely to pull off nonchalantly uninterested, his usual go-to demeanour. He stood up too quickly and cracked a grin. "So, who's driving?"

Percy took note, smirking, and ignored the question for the moment, "You have an interest I take it?"

"You could say that," Vax found he was scrambling for some shred of cool to hold on to but _shit_ , those eyes were so fucking blue and he was fiddling with his jacket cuff and avoiding Percy's gaze. The words 'wow Vax you're smooth' snaked through his thoughts, unhelpfully.

"Don't hide it," Percy chuckled, tossing the keys to Vax, "I find it rather endearing."

Vax caught the keys awkwardly against his chest and strode around to the driver's side. He got in and reached into his jacket for his picks, before remembering the key that was _literally in his other hand._

With his hand still in his pocket, and Percy settling into the passenger's seat, he tried to alleviate the awkwardness. "Heh, not really used to using one of these." _What a sad attempt,_ he thought.

"Force of habit?" Percy was an inch away from laughing out loud, watching as the fidgety young man's cheeks began to glow hot.

Vax mumbled something under his breath. He tried, unsuccessfully, not to blush at his own staggering idiocy as he turned the key in the ignition. But all was forgotten as the engine roared to life, and he set his hands on the steering wheel, feeling his being stretch into the very sound of the motor. He gave her a couple of revs for good measure and let out a laugh.

Percy thought it was the most angelic thing he'd ever heard, and his laughing look turned to one of awe.

Vax was, of course, oblivious. "Alright, let's fucking drive!" he shouted over the growl of the motor.

Percy gave a yelp as the car ran off, "Oh God!"

Vax grinned. He was in his element now. "Weak stomach?"

In response, Percy attempted to steady himself, pressing his hands against the glove box.

Vax laughed again, and stuck a middle finger up against his window as they flew past a speed limit sign. Consequences were forgotten, and he pushed the car as hard as it would go. "Any particular destination in mind?" he asked, turning to look at Percy next to him.

"Probably best to get back to my place," Percy managed to mutter, "and for the love of God please keep your eyes on the road."

"Certainly," agreed Vax, turning his head forward again, and promptly taking both hands off the wheel.

"Are you out of your mind?" Percy shouted, terror marring his previously composed eyes.

"Quite probably," admitted Vax, grinning wildly, but he placed his hands back on the steering wheel. 

It took Percy a few moments to feel comfortable next to this - still incredibly good-looking - insane speed demon, but once he did, he found himself enjoying the ride with the same childlike glee that Vax was indulging in. His heart sank a little as he realized how close they were to the highway exit that led back to the hotel.

He regained his senses though, and instructed Vax to get on the off-ramp, which he did, reducing his speed. Percy indicated which turns to take, satisfied that it appeared the young man would be lost in these streets without his directives. This thought, combined with the maddeningly attractive view of Vax's profile Percy was treated to every time the glow of a streetlight illuminated it, gave Percy an idea. He checked his watch; still two hours before Daxio would miss the car.

"Are you sure this is where you want to go?" Vax asked, as Percy sent him down a mostly dark back street.

"Absolutely," Percy said, "park it here."

Vax obeyed warily, tugging on the handbrake as he brought the car to a stop by the curb.

"Well, I think I'll be going then," he said, unfastening his seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.

Percy lay a forceful hand on the thief's shoulder, leaning toward him. "I don't," he breathed, "I think you'll be staying right where you are."

Vax was suddenly aware of a hunger in the icy blue eyes. It wasn't menacing; no, he thought, it was almost... inviting.

Well, fuck if he'd ever turned down an invitation, especially one as tempting as this. He shifted in his seat to face Percy, acutely conscious of how close their heads were, feeling the man's warm breath on his cheek. Then, in a flash, he grabbed Percy's face in both hands and kissed him hard. Percy was startled initially, but soon returned it, angling his head to deepen the embrace.

"Now we're talking," Percy smiled, his voice a low rumble against Vax's lips. He trailed his tongue along Vax's jaw, up toward his ear. Vax moaned slightly as Percy nipped his earlobe, which Percival took as a cue to nip again, harder this time. He pulled Vax against him over the gear stick, lacing a hand around the back of his neck, black hair tangling through his fingers. He slid his hand under the collar of Vax's thin cotton t-shirt, laying his palm against Vax's bare back.

At the same time, Vax pressed heavy kisses down Percival's neck, sucking on the warm, tender skin. Suddenly, Percival writhed involuntarily, feeling Vax's teeth close around his nipple. He hadn't even felt Vax undo the buttons on his shirt.

"Nimble fingers you've got there," he breathed, ashamed of the way his voice cracked. He felt more than heard as Vax chuckled against his chest, then twisted at the nipple. A bolt of pain-pleasure coursed through Percival, who moaned.

Percival looked over Vax's shoulder toward the back of the car, and was relieved to see that there was a backseat. He pulled away from Vax and looked at him, lust heavy in his eyes. Vax, panting, returned the gaze through long, dark lashes. Percival noted the way his own saliva glinted off Vax's skin in the dim light, and felt an insistent pressure building in his pants. He nodded suggestively toward the backseat, already reaching for the door handle.

"Shall we?"

**Author's Note:**

> I may have had to research some real life thieves' tools as part of this so... hey Big Brother, it's not what it looks like.


End file.
